The day after
by ylemon
Summary: What the day after a first night of passion may look like. Be warned: adult content galore.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note. This day after is viewed from Barbara's point of view. I have some ideas what Tommy's point of view could be. Let me know if you'd be interested to read it.

* * *

What surprised her the most was that life was going as before.

The sky wasn't bluer, the others passengers in the tube not nicer, the security agent at the entrance of New Scotland Yard had smiled at her the same way than the days before, even the secretary of the division despite her sharp eyes hadn't said anything.

Yet she was different! She felt it in the depths of her being.

The woman who was arriving at work on this chilly October morning wasn't the one who had left the evening before. The new 'She' was pretty and self-assured. Like a caterpillar leaving its ugly skin to become a beautiful butterfly, she had cast off her old bitter and restricted self to become a well-adjusted woman who enjoyed being alive. She thought of the silk cocoon that sheltered the insect during its transformation and she smiled: her cocoon had been softer than silk.

She sat at her desk and began to read the emails that had arrived during the night but rapidly she realized she couldn't focus on anything. She was still too full of him. She still had the softness of his skin under her fingertips; still had his smell in her nostrils; his voice was still in her ears, whispering sweet nothings. She still felt his hands on her, the warmth of his body against hers, the feeling that engulfed her the first time he'd taken her, the shivers of pleasure that had shaken her body when he had made her come.

She had given him everything and he had taken everything, voraciously, passionately.

Oh, of course, she had known for ages the rumours that circulated about him: he was like a racehorse put out to stud and had its endurance (1). Back then she couldn't say if this reputation of his was true to reality, if it had been embellished by his conquests or If it was only the result of the fantasies he inspired to women.

Now she knew.

He was all this and a lot more.

He was gentle and fiery. Without any taboo and considerate. Tenderly violent.

He had caressed her, kissed her, nibbled at her, licked her.

He had made her laugh, blush, cry, and moan.

She had felt beautiful, wanted, loved, fully a woman.

The memory of that night set her body on fire. She felt her breasts become heavier, her tits harden, a wetness appeared between her thighs. She was very pleased she had put on loose dark clothes this morning: her arousal would go unnoticed. She was focusing on her breathing when he stepped into the open-plan office, sweeping all her efforts to pull herself together away with just one smile.

He was breathtakingly handsome in a heather grey wool suit and a light mauve shirt but it was his naked body that she was seeing coming in her direction with the flowing gait of a man self-assured and conscious of the effect he had on the opposite sex. For years she had resented his self-important air and his mocking smile, and resented even more her incapacity to resist them. Until last evening. Until the moment when, not able to hold out any longer, she had erased the smile that was on his lips once again by kissing him. He tasted of beer and of nuoc mam from the takeaway dishes they had just shared on his sofa. She remembered the surprise in his eyes at first then the way he had drawn her into his embrace to deepen the kiss. In no time, she was sitting astride his lap, naked to the waist, moaning with pleasure as he took her breasts with his mouth. She had helped him to take off his trousers. The feeling of his hardened sex under her fingers as she'd fumbled with his zipper had finished to drive her crazy and she'd almost torn apart his boxer shorts. When she had seen his cock erected in all its glory above a thick bush of jet-black pubic hairs she had thought that she'd never seen anything so beautiful and she had taken him in her mouth. He had protested a bit at the beginning, as a matter of form, but soon enough his feeble protests had given way to moans of pleasure. He had stopped her just before he climaxed and she'd watched him ejaculate, fascinated by the contractions of his balls and the twitches of his prick and she'd thought: 'I want him to do that inside me.' He must have thought the same thing because he had taken her off to his bedroom on the first floor and had introduced her to the pleasures of the flesh.

Leaving the comfort of his arms at dawn had been a torture but she had to go back to her home to change before work. Now it was the first time they met again and she was surprised to see him so natural when her face was burning. He stopped by the desk in front of hers, near to Winston Nkata who briefed him about his discoveries. She knew she should pay attention to what Winnie was saying, they were all working on the same case after all, but all she could think of was him, his body, his burning kisses…

'Havers!'

She jumped. He must have caught her daydreaming because Winston and he were looking at her quizzically.

'Are you all right, Sergeant?'

'Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,' was all she could mutter. She excused herself and made a beeline for the Ladies.

Luckily the place was desert so no one was going to see her splashing cold water on to her face. Havers…Sergeant…it was strange to hear him call her so formally after all the Barbara's whispered last night. But he was right; he had the right attitude. They were at work and they mustn't change anything in their behaviour if they didn't want word of their relationship to get out.

 _Or it's his way to tell you you were just a one-night stand and it won't happen again,_ her reflection in the mirror meanly told her. _No, not him, not like that, not after last night,_ she thought, trying to reassure herself. Not after all the caresses, all the love words; not after all the time he'd spent exploring her body, looking for the most erogenous spot, the position that would maximize her pleasure. Upset, aroused, she locked herself in a cubicle and masturbated furiously. The orgasm relieved part of the tension but it was a pale echo of the ones she'd had the previous night. She wondered if she could go back to contenting herself with self-abuse if Tommy didn't want her anymore.

When she got out of the Ladies, he was waiting for her leant against the wall by the door.

'One word, Sergeant.'

 _The moment of truth_ , she thought. She followed him inside his office, a lead weight in her stomach and her heart in her mouth. He closed the door without saying a word and planted himself in front of her.

'Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?' he asked her.

His mocking smile, his loving eyes, his tender voice…Barbara felt like the perfect idiot for having doubted him.

'Nothing, I'm fine.'

'You didn't hear a word of what Winston was saying.'

It wasn't a reproach, merely a statement of fact.

'I was thinking of you,' she replied, a bit embarrassed.

'I'm very flattered to occupy your thoughts.'

'You occupy them too much: I can't think straight this morning; all I do is thinking about last night.'

'And?'

She sighed.

'It was wonderful.'

His smile broadened.

'I couldn't agree more, my love.'

He locked the door, drew her close to him, and kissed her for a long time. Barbara's desire returned stronger than before. Slowly she freed herself from his arms.

'We must stop now. I want you too much.'

'And I you,' he replied in a voice made hoarse by desire.

He took off his jacket and his tie. His shirt followed them seconds later.

'We can't,' Barbara said,' not here.'

'Why not?'

He unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall on the floor.

'It's too risky, someone could hear us,' she insisted feebly; she had almost no force left to protest.

'Just bite me when you want to shout.'

He unfastened her bra and drew a line of kisses in her neck. Barbara's last resistance collapsed; she unzipped his trousers.

'Cos you're going to make me shout?'

'Oh, yes. You'll come so hard they're going to hear you in Cornwall if you don't take care.'

In a single move, he pulled down her trousers and her cotton knickers.

'That's tremendously presumptuous of you, Sir.'

She sat on his desk and drew him close to her.

'Wait and see,' he whispered in her ear as he thrust himself in her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Barbara was at her desk, daydreaming in front of her computer.

The risk of being caught in the act had spiced up the sex and Tommy had been full of energy. He had taken her once on the desk and a second time, several minutes later while they had already started to put their clothes back on, up against the window with London at their feet. That sodding boaster had been right: pleasure had overwhelmed her so violently she had bitten him through the skin. She had been mortified when she'd realized what she had done; Tommy had simply laughed and had dabbed off the droplets of blood with a tissue.

However, they had agreed not to have sex in the office anymore. Too risky. Luckily today was Friday and they had their weekend off. Tommy had suggested to have dinner somewhere before going to the cinema. He knew she wanted to see the latest Tim Burton's. After the movie, she knew they would go back to his place to make love. She had a glance at the digital clock in the bottom-right corner of her screen and sighed. 10:02 am. Still at least ten hours to go before she could be in Tommy's arms again…Too bad for the cinema. She would rent the DVD.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Per your request, here's Tommy's point of view. Hope you'll enjoy it.

* * *

The sound of the waste disposal truck wakes me up. I must have dozed off on the sofa after Barbara has left. I haven't had much sleep last night. Not that I complain; the night has been so satisfying, much more than I expected. The empty carboard boxes that has contained our takeaway Vietnamese dishes are still on the coffee table, what's left of food long cold by now. This was supposed to be another of our traditional dinners over a case, which I initiated long ago to confront my hypotheses to Barbara's no-nonsense in an informal setting and that I called more and more often now just for the pleasure of spending an evening in her company. She has long had a soothing effect on me. The pain, the sadness, the stress go away when she smiles at me. I don't mind putting in long hours if it means I can spend some extra time with her. To be perfectly honest, these working dinners serve another purpose too. I'm in love with Barbara. The thought dawned on me nearly three months ago. But how do you say to your long-time work partner, your friend for more than eight years that your feelings have changed and that they are not platonic anymore? All the more when that woman has not been spared by life and has been let down more often that should be allowed. And I have a reputation, albeit largely overrated, as a womanizer. I hoped if we spent more time together in the intimacy of my house she would relax, see how much I cared for her. I wanted to go slowly, give her the time to get so used to have me around she'd miss me when I was not there. I wanted her to stop seeing me as Detective Inspector Lynley or, worse, Lord Asherton, and only see the man behind these titles, Tommy Lynley. But, even in my wildest dreams, I never dared hope she would make the first step and what a first step it's been!

When she kissed me out of the blue I was surprised; that was so unexpected. I had noticed she had grown more comfortable in my house, more laid-back with me but I thought she still needed time. I've never been so happy to be wrong. I held her tight to kiss her back and the feeling of her breasts pressed against my chest sent my heart racing. Pushing my luck, I licked her lips and against all odds she opened her mouth and granted me entry. When I'd imagined it, our first kiss was always very romantic, very sweet. It was neither. We kissed hungrily, and far from a delicate sharing of feelings, it was a furious battle of tongues as we both wanted to explore the other. When she sat astride my lap I lost all self-control and turned into an animal. All my good resolutions to be the perfect gentleman went to waste. I tore her T-shirt off. I think I remember a dark (black?) bra but I quickly removed it. Her breasts, Good Lord, her breasts…; I get a hard-on every time I think of them. Big, round, heavy with large dark areolas. I pounced on them like a famished wolf on an appetizing lamb, sucking, licking, kissing, kneading with a hand the breast I wasn't dealing with with my mouth. We stopped briefly, just long enough for me to remove my shirt. The contact of her skin against mine sent delicious shivers down my spine. I caressed her slowly, ravishing in the silky texture of her flawless skin but soon her hands raked my hair and she pulled my head against her chest again, moaning with pleasure as my tongue played with an erected nipple. I was so hard it was almost painful. When my hand left her breast she expressed her disapproval but when I slid it between us to unfastened my belt she understood what I wanted to do and happily volunteered to help me. A gentleman doesn't boast about this kind of things but, without false modesty, I think she liked what she saw because she took me in her mouth. I protested a bit, not that I don't like a good blow job but I think it's a bit too vulgar for a first time, but her tongue twirled around the head of my dick as she cupped my balls with her hand and all my concerns disappeared… to resurface a few moments later when I felt I would soon go over the edge. Having her mouth all around my cock was one thing but inundating it with my semen was another matter altogether. I withdrew just in time. She watched me ejaculate with curiosity and I had the feeling she was seeing this for the first time. How can she be so expert at fellatio and know so little about its effect? No, don't tell me; I don't want to know.

The release was good but we both wanted more so we retreated to my bedroom. I wasn't her first man but she didn't have much experience either. She couldn't tell me what she liked so we tried various things, which was fun, both of us nicely surprised whenever I hit the right spot, which was even better. Barbara is in bed as she is in life: curious, fiery, and out-spoken. A 'No, not like that' means exactly that and ignore her words at your own risk but on the other hand it wasn't difficult to know when she was enjoying what I was doing. As her pleasure grew she would moan louder and louder, crying out very loudly when she climaxed. I had never known a woman so boisterous before, and I discovered I liked that. I was glad we were alone in the house but it probably wouldn't have changed anything. Her cries aroused me so much I would probably have not asked her to be quieter. However, this is something we'll have to work on: my bedroom is not far from Peter's at Howenstow, and Denton is to come back from his holidays in a couple of days. As I think of it now, in my office at New Scotland Yard, I see it's the classical case of the glass half-empty or half-full. Half-empty: we won't be alone in the house anymore; half-full: we still have the week-end on our own. Half-full: my cock is already looking forward to nestle in her body; half-empty: it's Friday morning and there's a working day ahead of me before I can be with Barbara again. I wonder if she longs for me as I long for her but I can't step into the communal office and ask her if she wants me, can I? And there's this new case that requires all my attention. Always the professional, Nkata typed his report and put it on my desk yesterday evening. I've been trying to read it since I arrived this morning. Winston's prose style is not to blame; I just can't concentrate. The bulge between my legs strains the fabric of my trousers. I get up, open the window behind my desk, and let the cold air blows in my face. It calms my over-heated nerves. I must be cautious: some people have already complained I treat Barbara differently from her fellow sergeants, which is wrong or so I think, but if word spread out that we're an item it'd be the end of our partnership. I glance at Winston's report on my desk and decide it will be quicker to ask him to brief me orally.

My eyes meet Barbara's as soon as I step into the open-plan office. I smile at her but she lowers her gaze. I want to go and talk to her, ask her what's wrong but I can't. I hope she doesn't regret what happened last night. Winston's desk faces Barbara's. As he briefs me I look at her. She seems to be miles away from here. I doubt she heard a word of what Winston has just said.

'What do you make of this, Sergeant?' I ask her.

No answer. I'm sure she's not even heard my question. I insist, raising my voice.

'Havers!'

She jumps and looks at me with a faraway look in her eyes. I'm worried.

'Are you all right, Sergeant?'

'Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,

She says she's fine. Trouble is she always says she's fine even when she's not, and to make matters worse she mumbles an excuse and leaves the room precipitously. I'm scared to death. Winston's eyes are going from her to me. They're full of questions he will not ask, not ask me anyway. I notice other pairs of eyes on me, on the lookout for my reaction. I'm not going to give me them the pleasure of running after Barbara. Whatever is going on it's between her and me. It's not a subject for office gossip. I ask Winston to go on with the brief but I'm dying to go after Barbara.

There are two places in this building where she goes when she wants to be alone. I go to the nearest one: the staircase where she usually breaks the internal policy on indoor smoking but she's not there. This means she's in her second lair and I can't go to this one so I lean against the wall near the Ladies and wait. And wait. Five minutes. Ten minutes. What's going on in there? Why doesn't she come out? I'm about to forget all my good manners and go into the Ladies when she finally comes out.

'One word, Sergeant.'

We need to talk. Now. She follows me into my office without a word. I close the door and can't help smiling. She looks uneasy, like a child being summoned to the headmaster's office.

''Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?' I ask.

'Nothing, I'm fine.'

 _Again. Trust me, Barbara. I love you._

'You didn't hear a word of what Winston was saying.'

'I was thinking of you,' she says sheepishly.

 _In good or bad terms?_ There's a knot in my stomach but I pretend to take it lightly.

'I'm very flattered to occupy your thoughts.'

'You occupy them too much: I can't think straight this morning; all I do is thinking about last night.'

'And?'

 _The moment of truth._

She sighs.

'It was wonderful.'

Her words are a relief. She has no remorse, no regret except, like me, to be stuck at work when we'd be so much better at home, making love.

'I couldn't agree more, my love.'

She's beautiful, my fiery partner. She still wears those awful loose clothes she likes but now that I know what they're hiding I don't mind them anymore. She has let her hair grow down to her shoulders and her eyes are full of sparkles as she smiles at me. The demon of lust possesses me again. I want her. Here and now. This is not a primal desire, it's a vital need. I need her body like I need air. Without her, I'd die. I lock the door and kiss her. She tastes of coffee. She kisses me back then frees herself from my arms.

'We must stop now. I want you too much.'

'And I you,' I reply.

I don't care where we are; I don't care if someone hears us; I want her. I take off my clothes.

'We can't,' she says,' not here.'

'Why not?'

She's right of course but she lets me take her shirt off anyway.

'It's too risky, someone could hear us.'

Her protests are weaker now. She wants this as much as I do. Her breathing is becoming more rapid; her voice huskier.

'Just bite me when you want to shout.'

This is the first idea that has crossed my mind. I free her generous breasts from their jail. Barbara doesn't protest any more. Actually she becomes quite active and unzips my trousers. My cock almost jumps out of my boxer shorts in its haste to be freed.

'Cos you're going to make me shout?'

We're bantering again; I guess we'll keep bantering till the day we die.

'Oh, yes. You'll come so hard they're going to hear you in Cornwall if you don't take care.'

I pull down her trousers and knickers and she stands completely naked in front of me. She doesn't shy away from my gaze. A mischievous smile plays on her lips.

'That's tremendously presumptuous of you, Sir.'

She sits on my desk and draws me to her.

'Wait and see,' I whisper in her ear as I dive in her.

Her warmth, her wetness surround me. My mind's at ease. I could stay like that till the end of time but my body has a life of its own. My hips propel me to and fro. Barbara's hands caress my back; her lips kiss my chest; she's driving me crazy. She looks up at me and I take her mouth. The kiss leaves us breathless. I feel her tighten around my dick, pressing it, squeezing it in the most delicious way. She grabs my buttocks, pushing me further into her at each thrust. I see on her face that she's struggling not to shout with pleasure. She's biting her lower lip so hard I'm afraid she's going to make herself bleed. Gently I draw her head to the hollow of my shoulder:

'Don't hurt yourself, my love. You can bite me if you want.'

She's resisting but her nails go into the flesh of my back. She lets out little moans that excite me more and more. I feel the desk move with each of my thrust. I'm close to climax; she's closer. As the pleasure overwhelms her, she bites me so hard I almost cry out in pain. The spasms appear; her sex is pumping mine, pushing me over the edge. I hold her tight as I come, my nose buried in her hair.

'I love you,' I say when I can speak again.

She smiles at me.

'I love you more.'

I'm not sure it's possible but I won't argue. We pick up our clothes and start to get dressed. She's bitten me through the skin and I'm bleeding a bit. She's really embarrassed but I laugh off her concern. After all I've asked her to bite me, haven't I? In her bra and knickers, she goes to the window and look outside.

'You've a nice view,' she says. 'I've never noticed it before.'

I come behind her wearing only my boxer shorts and my shirt. I take her in my arms and look out of the window. She's right; the view's nice; I haven't noticed it before either. I see our reflections in the pane. Barbara's smiling at me and I think I'm the luckiest man in the world. Her smile turns naughty though and she presses her buttocks against my groin. She must have felt me become hard again. In no time our underwear are on the floor again and we make love up against the window.

We leave each other ten minutes later with a schedule for the evening: dinner at the restaurant and then a movie – Barbara's been talking about the latest Burton's all week - , which means we won't be home before eleven thirty at the earliest. I look at my fob watch, frown, and bring it to my ear. No, it's working; I can hear its tic-tac. Only 10:02 am; tonight will never come. I would gladly give up our evening out to be in her arms sooner but I know she's looking forward to that movie. Perhaps we could skip the restaurant. Beans on toast at my place should leave us enough time for a bit of lovemaking before the movie. Not the romantic dinner I have planned but we've the rest of our lives for that.


End file.
